Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Guinea and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Erykah Badu to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Marc Almond,
The Zeros,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fad Gadget,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Delon & Dalcan,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Panda Bear,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Litter,
Blancmange,
Jawbox,
Half Japanese,
Andrew Hill,
The Saints,
Country Teasers,
Hoover,
Fugazi,
Tears for Fears,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Velvet Underground,
Deepchord,
New York Dolls,
Byron Stingily,
Monks,
Godley & Creme,
Stetsasonic,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Mandrill,
Eurythmics,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Grass Roots,
Hashim,
Slick Rick,
The Martian,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gil Scott Heron,
John Coltrane,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lou Christie,
Johnny Osbourne,
Yaz,
MC5,
The Walker Brothers,
Piero Umiliani,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Reuben Wilson,
Drexciya,
Moby Grape,
Ralphi Rosario,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The American Breed,
The Misunderstood,
Mission of Burma,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Nick Fraelich,
Joey Negro,
The Beau Brummels,
Groovy Waters,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.